


Lacrimosa

by Temporarily



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, References to Mozart, Short One Shot, Wammy's House Era (Death Note), how do i tag this even???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temporarily/pseuds/Temporarily
Summary: The finger on his left hand began to twirl a lock of hair, and the finger on his right tapped the air like a baton. His mouth moved and kept silent twelve-eight time./The song was slow, breathtakingly beautiful and heart-wrenchingly sad. It felt like grief and hope.OR: How Mello and Near experience music. Oh, and Matt's there too.
Relationships: Matt | Mail Jeevas & Mello | Mihael Keehl, Matt | Mail Jeevas & Mello | Mihael Keehl & Near | Nate River
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Lacrimosa

The music room wasn't the most well kept of rooms within Wammy's house. A few students there were, of course, musical virtuosos, but that room dedicated to their art was so decrepit and had such an atmosphere of loneliness they mostly preferred to practice elsewhere.

The lacquer on the wooden stands built with the hope of holding up a band or choir that never came to be was yellowed and peeling. The curtains that looked out onto the yard were dusty and worn. The paintings of great musical geniuses high on the wall seemed to be rumpled and barely clinging to their frames as if exhausted at having to uphold their own lofty position.

The only thing that was cared for in the music room was the grand piano. This was because there had always been people at Wammy's house who loved the piano, starting with Quillish Wammy himself. And unlike other instruments, the piano could not be moved to a private room for practice.

Near crouched on the piano bench and ran his fingers across the keys. He wondered at who had touched these keys before him. So often it felt like the graduates of Wammy's house, all prior generations including L himself, were far out of reach. Off accomplishing their great and terrible feats across all corners of the world. Here, Near thought he might be just a little bit closer to some of them.

Then he shut the piano lid. Near did not play any instruments. He could learn if he wanted to and he would probably be fairly good at it. But he had no desire to perform and, compared to the other things he was exceptionally good at, little talent for it. Instead, he adjusted the blank sheet music on the stand so it was nice and neat and pinned in place by a pencil. He put the large, clunky headphones he'd taken from the computer room over his ears, closed his eyes, and hit the play button on the portable CD player.

The finger on his left hand began to twirl a lock of hair, and the finger on his right tapped the air like a baton. His mouth moved and kept silent twelve-eight time.

_ One and Two and Three and Four and One and Two and Three and Four and-- _

With his eyes closed and his ears occupied Near didn't notice the blur of red and the blur of yellow that went shooting past the music room's door, and he didn't notice when those blurs backtracked to hover by the frame.

"What's he doing?" Matt asked after a few moments of observing Wammy House's top student's odd behavior. Mello scoffed, leaning over Matt's shoulder to peer into the room.

"Who knows? I'm pretty sure he only listens to music for the theory." The disgust and ridicule stained his voice. In Mello's opinion, anyone who thought that music was about math instead of emotion belonged up on the wall with those stuffy old geniuses in their paintings. And they could stay right there and keep their math and musical theory to themself. "Come on, let's keep playing," he said, tugging at his best friend's sleeve. "I caught you, you're it now."

"One second." Matt pulled away and took a step into the music room, eyes fixed on the boy in white pajamas as he gently swayed, immersed in the music.

"Matt, come on!" Mello hissed. "We can mess with Near later, I don't wanna be around the smug little twerp right now!" After all, Near had beaten him in the tests again just that morning. Mello wasn't in the mood to put up with him. He'd been in the middle of studying with a vengeance when Matt dragged him out of his room to play tag.

But no matter how viciously he whispered to his friend that they should leave before Near noticed them, Matt was drawn inexorably to sit on the edge of the piano bench.

Near's hand stilled and his eyes opened. He did not look surprised to see Matt.

"What'cha listening to?" the redhead asked. Near's eyes darted from him to the seething Mello still lingering in the doorway and back to Matt. He put the headphones around his neck and unplugged them from the CD player. He pressed rewind, and then play.

As the first violin chords filled the air Near picked up the pencil and began to fill out the empty sheet music. While his hand skipped across the paper it was Mello who was drawn across the room and onto the piano bench.

The song was slow, breathtakingly beautiful and heart-wrenchingly sad. It felt like grief and hope. Mello clutched at the rosary under his shirt when the choir began to sing, and the meaning of the Latin words he probably never would have learned if Wammy's House didn't require it and Near hadn't been so damn  _ perfect  _ at it, came to him bar by slow, solemn bar.

_ Mournful that day. _

_ When from the ashes shall rise _

_ a guilty man to be judged. _

_ Lord, have mercy on him. _

_ Gentle Lord Jesus, _

_ grant them eternal rest. _

_ Amen. _

That final word rising on a crescendo of strings and drums cut off abruptly. It didn't feel like a proper ending. It felt like the end of an interlude that was interrupted and left unfinished. Matt nudged him and Mello blinked. He found tears in his eyes and realized that he'd been holding his breath. He exhaled, jabbed his elbow into Matt's side and scrubbed at his eyes. "Shut up," he muttered. Matt laughed and protested,

"I didn't even say anything!"

Near finished writing out the final note on the sheet music, a perfect replica of the song. At the top of the page he wrote:

_ Lacrimosa _

_ By Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart _

He held out the page and looked at it with a small, soft smile. Then he looked up at Mozart’s portrait on the wall and nodded. In a house full of minds cultivated to the pinnacle of brilliance, there was a true genius. 

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I don't know where this came from? I guess I just thought about how Near would listen to Lacrimosa by Mozart and Mello would listen to Lacrimosa by Apashe and this. Happened?  
> Also I've been trying to spontaneously post more, get more fics on Ao3 instead of lingering in my documents folders for years on end. So, here you go. The bois, plus Mozart.
> 
> Also can we get a classical-music-prodigy!near lead-singer-in-a-rock-band!mello and audio-engineer!matt AU?? That's in my brain now.


End file.
